The Pet
by Slashbuckler Kristin
Summary: Lucius procures a most interesting Pet while on business in the U.S. Slash LMHP, DMHP Read all Author Notes. New Chapter!
1. Strictly Business

A/N: This is my first foray back into longer works. For those who don't know, this is a crossover, but since it's mostly Harry Potter –based, that's where I'm putting it. It's rated a hard R, with some sex, violence, and non-consensual stuff, and for being just generally dark and freaky. It's also slashy, so if you have objections, don't read it. I certainly don't want any homophobic flaming going on. Or any flaming, really. Pet Shop of Horrors is a great anime/manga series, and I suggest it to everyone. Thanks to Nicki for the beta! I appreciate and welcome all comments and questions. And if you want to call me weird or crazy, feel free. But I take those sorts of things as compliments.  
  
***  
  
Lucius Malfoy stood, just inside a dimly-lit, well-decorated shop room, holding his cane in hand. The entire room smelled of incense, a strangely musky scent that cast its spell of drowsiness over the man the moment that he stepped inside. Of course, the aristocratic wizard shook it off immediately, and went about inspecting the shop. He was in the States on business – his colleagues in the Americas had been sour about missing out on certain activities for months – when he came across this place. This Pet Shop.  
  
"Quaint," he murmured underneath his breath, in a sneering tone, as he awaited the appearance of the shop's owner. He didn't have to wait very long – in his next breath, a tall, slender man with dark hair and the most alluring eyes stepped through a curtain separating the front of the shop and the back, in a cloud of incense-smoke. Lucius took one look at the man and decided that he knew why the pet shop was so successful. If the other wanted him to, he would quite probably purchase a herd of sheep. Of course, according to reputation, nothing as mundane as that was sold there, at Count D's Pet Shop.  
  
"You must be Mister Malfoy," the man, the Count, purred, and Lucius nodded once, firmly, moving toward him while running his fingers over the silver snake's head at the top of his cane.   
  
  
  
"You are correct," Lucius returned, in the same purring tone. D looked him over, and then broke into a very slow smile.  
  
"What may I help you with?" he asked next. Lucius raised a single brow, watching him closely. Certainly he was there with a purpose – the Christmas holidays were fast approaching – but he could always mix a bit of business with pleasure.  
  
"I'm looking for a gift for my son," Lucius explained, in a tone like silk, pushing a few strands of long, golden hair over his shoulder. "He's in need of a pet, but I'm afraid the commonplace creatures sold in other shops won't satisfy me."  
  
"Well, Mr. Malfoy," D purred, being so very inconspicuous in looking the taller, powerful man over, then gave the tiniest of smirks. "I guarantee that I will do my very best to satisfy your needs."  
  
This caused a grin to draw across Lucius' lips, and he moved closer, so close that he could practically hear D's heartbeat. "Let us see to a pet first," he whispered, in a silky tone. "And then we shall see what a man such as yourself," he paused, to look the Count over as well, "can do to satisfy me."  
  
"Very well," said the Count, and gestured to the back of the shop. The curtains drew apart, and Lucius followed him back, glancing about quickly. Strange birds, reptiles, fish... even cats and dogs, peered at them curiously from cages attached to the floor, set on desks, and suspended from the ceilings. But they kept walking.  
  
"I am certain I know exactly what Draco would like," Count D was saying, Lucius was too distracted by an incredible creature, sitting serenely in a cage. At first glance, it was a completely naked woman, but upon further inspection there was something completely different and incredible about her. In fact, Lucius could have sworn that she wasn't a woman at all, but some sort of bird. Count D kept him moving, and at long last, Lucius was led to a door. Once there, D pulled a necklace from beneath the cheongsam that he wore, seven different keys bound by a thin, fine gold chain.  
  
Each of seven different locks on the door was unlocked and, despite himself, Lucius couldn't help but feel a slight wave of anticipation wash over him. Of course, he didn't give any indication of this to the Count; rather, he cleared his throat in faux-impatience and tapped the bottom of his cane against the floor. At long last the door was unlocked, and D let it swing open. Lucius stared into a room of such complete darkness that it startled him. Light from the hall did not seem to permeate inside – instead, the room stood as an entirely separate entity. A black hole. Slowly, Lucius stepped inside.  
  
It felt almost as though he was using a portkey, the strange tugging sensation practically pulled him inside. Quite suddenly, the room wasn't dark anymore, but rather brightly lit with some sort of Muggle technology. Lucius glanced behind him, but the door was closing behind D. Something dragged his gaze back forward.  
  
He took a step, somehow having the knowledge, just knowing, that something was there. Something incredible. He had been walking for what seemed like forever, when out of nowhere a figure appeared. It looked altogether angelic, pale white porcelain skin a stark contrast to black hair, and to the pinkish scar on its' forehead.  
  
Lucius, despite himself, felt a gasp catching in his throat. "That's-" he spoke before he could keep his voice from going too high.  
  
"Yes," drawled D, resting one of his hands on his hips, the other dangling at his side. "His Aunt and Uncle were actually quite eager to be rid of him."  
  
"But-"Lucius didn't understand. Draco was at school with Potter right now. If the Boy Who Lived didn't show up at Hogwarts, he would've heard about it.  
  
"Of course," D cut him off, with a sly smirk. "I provided them with a replacement." As Lucius realized the meaning to D's words – things that this meant, that even the Pet Shop owner didn't realize. The opportunity. The chances. His boss would be so pleased.  
  
"I'll take it," Lucius said, grinning from ear to ear as he gazed at the teenage boy before him, kneeling with a leather collar around his neck, wrists bound together in front of him with a kind of black latex tape. Naked, of course. He wasn't sure why he'd never noticed it before, but Harry Potter certainly was delectable.   
  
"Before you do," said D as he guided Lucius back to the front room, allowing him to lead his purchase by his collar, "There is, of course, the matter of a contract." Lucius nodded hastily, looking over the pet with a well-masked eagerness.   
  
"Yes, of course," Lucius said, with a wave of his hand.  
  
"There are the terms of the contract," D went on. "It's very important that you follow these terms implicitly. If you do not – and this is important," he said, firmly, being sure that Lucius looked up from Harry. "If you do not follow these terms, I cannot be held responsible for what may happen."  
  
Lucius didn't particularly like the sound of that, but he nodded the Count on anyway. There was no way that he would leave this behind.  
  
"Firstly, the incense. It must be kept lit in the pet's room at all times." D handed Lucius a packet of that sweet-smelling herb. "Secondly, you must not let him be seen by anyone, save for your own immediate family." Pressing his lips together, Lucius nodded at this. "And lastly, he must not be harmed." Lucius felt his spirits fall a bit at this term but, with a tiny smirk crossing his lips, he nodded. Harm can be avoided. Pain, however, would be most pleasant. His smirk spread.   
  
Lucius signed on the line, in his extravagant cursive, then moved to the side. He would apparate, of course, and D promised that the pet would be delivered to his house on Christmas morning. He looked his purchase over one last time, before he stepped away and, with a loud crack, was gone again. 


	2. He's Not Himself Lately

A/N: Wow. I've got a handful of reviews out of nowhere. I'm glad people are enjoying this! Thanks for the kind words, and feel free to leave some more. This story jumps around a bit, but hopefully everyone can follow along well enough.  
  
~*~  
  
Dumbledore looked across the Great Hall worriedly, gaze set on the Gryffindor table. Watching Harry as he ate quietly, staring at his plate. Of course, he wasn't surprised that the boy was withdrawn – considering the terrible loss he'd suffered only a few months ago, he was entirely understanding of that entire situation – but he seemed like an entirely different person. This boy, the expressionless shell of a person, barely seemed like the fifteen year-old that had shouted at him last year.   
  
Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley seemed likewise concerned with his behavior. Ron gestured toward the Slytherin table, where Draco Malfoy sat, and made a joke. Harry didn't even crack a smile. Ron, sighing, shared a look with Hermione, shrugged, and gave up. He hadn't gotten more than eight words out of Harry since he'd come back from the holiday. He was inclined to believe something horrible had happened to him at the Dursley's, but he had no evidence.  
  
It was, however, painfully obvious: Harry Potter was not the same boy that he had been before.  
  
~*~  
  
Lucius Malfoy calmly stood in the center of a mostly-empty room, hands coming to rest on his hips. He sighed, and shook his head a bit. With a dismissive wave of his wand, produced from the end of his cane, a large canopy bed appeared in the corner, well-adorned with black silk and velvet. Another flick of his wrist, and chains appeared against the cold, stone walls, attached to the brick with big steel rings. He neared the bed, turning to the mahogany stand by its side, and setting the incense that D had given to him, upon it.   
  
He heard the footsteps approaching before he heard his wife's voice at the door, so cold that he could have sworn that a window had been left open.  
  
"What on earth are you doing, Lucius?" Her nose, forever upturned, seemed even more so as her calculating, demeaning gaze swept over the room.  
  
"Preparing the bedroom," he answered simply, his tone snide in reaction to Narcissa's. The honest truth was that they hadn't been romantic since Draco was born, nor did he care if they ever were again. Their marriage hadn't been because of love – it'd been, of course, convenience. As a way to join the noble families of Malfoy and Black. As far as sex was concerned, Lucius had other means of satiating his desires, and – he suspected – as did his wife.  
  
"Are you expecting company?" she asked, a fine blonde brow arching as she caught sight of one of the chains, suspended from the wall.   
  
"It's for the new pet," Lucius explained coolly, as he turned away from the incense holder that he'd set up on the stand, and brushed a few locks of blonde from his shoulder. "I trust you remember my telling you that I pur-"  
  
"I quite remember," Narcissa cut him off, scoffing underneath her breath. "I still can't for the life of me imagine why you won't tell me what it is."  
  
"As I told you," his tone was becoming more and more impatient. "I doubt you would approve."  
  
"Well, why don't you try me?" she asked at this. Lucius knew the game all too well – she tried to fire up his temper, made every attempt that she could to make him angry, so that when visitors came, it was always, "Lucius hit me again," or, "Oh, his temper's just unbearable!"   
  
"Not today, Narcissa," he said, simply, then swept out of the room, leaving his wife to glare at the bed in disgust, before she turned on her heel and stormed out.  
  
~*~  
  
Holidays came upon the students of Hogwarts quickly, and all of them – even Harry, which puzzled Ron and Hermione even more than his other behavior had – went home on the Hogwarts Express. As the Dursleys embraced Harry warmly at the London Station, Hermione shared a puzzled look with Ron, before pulling him aside.  
  
"Something is WRONG," she managed to sputter, as Dudley offered Harry a piece of the gigantic chocolate bar that he was eating. Apparently, they'd given up on the diet, as the boy was easily the size of both Crabbe and Goyle combined.  
  
"I know!" said Ron, shaking his head and watching, then looking back to Hermione. "I reckon he's gone completely nutters!"  
  
"You know what I think-?" she was starting, but cut herself short as Ginny appeared at Ron's side.   
  
"What?" Ron asked, then looked down to his little sister, before rolling his eyes and sighing. "I'll owl you once I get back to the burrow." Hermione nodded gravely, saw her parents in the next moment, and ran to them. Christmas vacation had just begun.  
  
~*~  
  
Christmas morning could not come quickly enough for Draco Malfoy, who spent his afternoons practicing on his broom in the yard, or inside, when it was too cold to fly, spread across his bed looking at photographs or perfecting his skills at Wizard's Chess. When December 25th finally rolled around, however, he appeared downstairs in the living room, greedily regarding the piles of gifts wrapped in silver, black, and green paper. He received a new broomstick – a Firebolt II, the newest model – new robes, a new potions set and new silver Chess pieces, several dozen Chocolate Frogs and boxes of various candies. It was a Christmas much like every other, until his father took him by the arm, leading him to the third floor of their spacious house.  
  
Draco followed his father obediently, allowing himself to be led to one of the guest rooms. Nearly halfway down the hall, he was welcomed by a very sweet scent. He tilted his head and lifted it a bit, nose raising to sniff at the air. He hadn't remembered smelling that ever before.   
  
"It was delivered this morning," Lucius was explaining, as he produced a key from a pocket of his robes. "There are rules that go along with this, Draco." Draco had learned long ago to pay attention when his father's voice dropped to that sort of tone. He looked up, blinking away the strong desire to fall asleep. He felt like he'd drifted into a state of dreaming. "You cannot tell anyone, nor may anyone see it. Always make sure that the incense is lit and – listen to me, Draco –" he gripped his son's arm so hard that the teenager thought he might squeak. "You cannot harm him. No broken bones, no scars, no missing parts. And, for heaven's sake, don't tell your mother."   
  
With that, Lucius turned abruptly and left his son looking quite puzzled in front of a door. Glancing from side to side, Draco wasted no time in slipping the key into the lock and turning it, then opening the door. The scent of incense was even stronger inside the room, and Draco almost let the desire to fall asleep get the better of him. At last, though, he shook his head to clear it, and stepped further inside. He took care in closing the door behind him, and then moved toward the bed.  
  
At first, he thought he'd actually fallen asleep, and it was a dream. A very vivid, very strange dream. Seeing one of his schoolmates on the bed, chained and bound, naked certainly wasn't an everyday occurrence. Especially THAT schoolmate. Draco's jaw dropped as he neared the bed, then broke into a very wide, very devilish grin.  
  
"Harry Potter," he stated, moving right up close. The other boy's pupils were wide, his eyes nearly entirely black. He didn't move or stir, but sat calmly on the edge of the bed. At last, he looked up to Draco, lips parting as though to form words, but then closed again almost immediately. Draco was floored, he absolutely could not believe this. His father was either the best patron on earth, or the kinkiest bastard alive.  
  
Running a finger up Harry's delicate arm, the musculature that had been gained by years of Quidditch playing diminished as of late, his frame wiry and frail, Draco nearly shivered. Then, he decided that perhaps his father was a bit of both.  
  
~*~  
  
Hermione scribbled on a bit of paper, while Ron's owl Pig pecked impatiently at her fingers.  
  
"Oh, you.. bird, I'm writing, can't you see that?" she hissed as she folded up the paper and attached it to the troublesome bird's leg. Then, she sighed and fell back against her bed, thinking about what she'd just written.  
  
Ron-  
  
I can't write everything in this  
  
note, but I think that it is safe  
  
to say that something is wrong  
  
with him. I don't really think   
  
he's himself lately, if you get   
  
my meaning.  
  
- Hermione  
  
~*~*~ 


End file.
